Hide and Seek
by ImpalaAngel13
Summary: Sequel to HLAHADS. A rift has grown between the Winchesters, dividing them in ways that none thought possible. Yet through this, love endures. Follow the lives of the most dysfunctional extended family in history.
1. The King

**Hey, guys! Surprise, surprise! I got requests to write a sequel, so after a while I agreed. So here's chapter one! The story title is inspired by my favorite song, "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap.**

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**Hide And Seek**

The king was dying.

He lay on a bed of red silk, his dark chestnut hair splayed across a feather pillow and his broad chest rising and falling in shallow, pained gasps. A long gash was exposed on his abdomen, steadily oozing red blood mixed with angel Grace. A pair of fiery wings dangled limply off the edges of the bed, torn beyond repair.

A lone figure sat next to the bed, holding one of the king's limp hands in both of his own. Tears had long since soaked the clasped hands, dripping down to make the red sheets a dark scarlet.

It had been a day since the young and powerful king had been brought into the palace, drenched in his own blood and with a knife in his side. The knife was later found out to have belonged to the royal family of New Haven.

All had been well between the two worlds for thousands of years, even extending to stretch the peace to encompass Heaven after the return of Elijah Luke the Peacemaker. The kings and royal families in both New Haven and Hell had been loved by generations of subjects, never once being challenged or overthrown.

But then there had been the minor disputes between families; the little spats that came up over the passage of time. They came and went, but none was so bad as the most recent: one of King Dean's knights, in a drunken rage, had murdered a family in Hell.

The rift between the worlds was massive and all-encompassing, and it had been lasting for the past five years.

Now the king was dying.

"You can't die," his consort whispered tearfully, leaning forward so that his lips were inches from the king's ear. "I won't let you!" He removed one of his hands from the king's and carded his fingers through the silky, straight brown locks of hair that he knew so well. The fingers moved up to touch the plain golden circlet that had taken the place of a clunky crown on the king's head. "You can't leave me," the other man insisted quietly, tugging at the king's hair to remove a tangle.

The king groaned in pain and gave a particular lurching gasp. His pain-filled hazel eyes darted around the room, the glazed orbs slowly finding their way to his companion's face. "Gabriel," he croaked.

"Hey," the archangel whispered, giving a miserable half-smile through the tears.

"Hey," the king replied, his voice barely more than a cracked whisper. "Do you remember when I asked you if we'd live forever?"

"Yeah, I do," Gabriel recalled fondly, quietly, sadly.

"I-" The king coughed suddenly, a spray of blood coming up to spatter his near-white lips. When he recovered himself, his eyes were nearly unfocused, but still managed to train themselves on Gabriel's face. "That day, I wanted to ask..." he trailed off again.

Gabriel nudged the king back into consciousness. "What? Ask what?" he begged. "Tell me!"

"Ask...when we die, will we find each other? Will-" the king coughed again- "will we live forever again?"

"Of course," Gabriel insisted, grabbing a washcloth from next to the bed and dabbing the blood from the king's lips. "We'll always be together."

"Always?" the king whispered, his voice slowly dwindling.

Gabriel smiled, squeezing the king's hand tenderly. "Always," he affirmed.

The king managed a shivering grin, his eyes sharpening for just a moment as he looked at Gabriel in a moment of clarity. "Good," he rasped.

And, with his eyes still trained on Gabriel's face, the king's Grace burst from his face, pouring out of the mouth that had given thousands of speeches and the eyes that had seen the world a million times over. The sound was like a million bells breaking, letting out a chorus both beautiful and bitter. Then the king fell still, his eyes closed and mouth barely forming the smile of his final moments.

"No," Gabriel whimpered, and a single tear traced its way down his face, carrying infinite grief within its tiny walls. "_No._"

The king's cold hand fell from Gabriel's, and the archangel threw back his head in grief, letting loose a wail of fury and misery that shattered windows all through Hell.

Trumpets sounded through the fiery realm, punctuated by a single cry:

"Sam Winchester is dead!"


	2. Vendetta

**I'm back! So here's chapter two...and you know, a few reviews won't kill you.**

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**Hide and Seek- Vendetta**

King Sam's body was laid out on an obsidian slab in the center of the throne room of Hell. His eyes were closed and his wings, though tattered by the attack that killed him, were splayed out to their full extent.

King Gabriel, with his usually merry eyes somber, stood at the head of the slab in black garments. He wore the crown that Sam had worn before he had died, and the gold adornment seemed to weigh heavily on his head.

Their twin daughters, Jessica and Damaris, were standing to either side of Gabriel, their blond curls tumbling down their black-clad shoulders. Madison stood to the left of Jessica, and Elijah was on Damaris's right. The nobility and commonfolk of Hell were all crowded into the throne room, along with several souls that lingered to the sides of the great hall.

Gabriel cleared his throat loudly, and all low murmurs in the throne room ended. The sole king looked down at his late husband and began to speak. "Citizens of Hell, it is a sad day indeed. Our beloved king has departed due to the most terrible of circumstances. Sam was killed...killed by his own family, his own flesh and blood. Yes," he affirmed, silencing the shocked whispers of the crowd, "King Sam was murdered by one of the royal family of New Haven!" He paused a moment before continuing. "We will have our revenge. We will avenge the death of Sam Winchester, one of the best goddamn hunters that had ever lived. But for now-" here he broke off, for his voice cracked with grief- "for now, we pay our final respects to our fallen king before we burn him and send his soul to Paradise." He stepped aside and the steady flow of subjects began, each coming forward to say their goodbyes to the king.

There was John Winchester, his soul bright but throbbing with hurt. Mary Winchester stood beside her husband, reaching out a hand to touch the lips of her son, the king that had been forever young.

Here now were the friends he had made, the men who had made Sam laugh like he had in the old days of humanity, the ones who made him feel like he was actually the thirty years that he looked and not actually millennia old.

And here were the subjects who had always looked up to the king that had ruled with a strong fist but gentle words, the beloved ruler that had led their world through the hardest times.

The doors to the hall swung open, hitting the walls with twin _BOOM_s.

And in strode none other than King Dean Winchester, wearing a silver crown, black jeans, and a gray shirt.

By his side was his ever-present husband, Castiel, with his trademark trenchcoat, raven-black hair, and silver circlet. Behind the kings were the two children, the prodigies. With black hair and eyes as bright as grass and water, Joshua and Emily were fearful beings, beautiful as leopards but just as lethal.

The family strode relentlessly forward, parting the crowds with their mere presence alone. Dean was the first to reach the slab, met only by Gabriel's fierce amber eyes. "Hiya, Gabe," he spat. "Care to let me see my brother?"

"Sure, Dean-o," Gabriel replied with equal venom. "Just as soon as you tell me which one of you killed him."

The crowds, sensing the imminent explosion of emotions from the warring families, dispersed through the doors, disappearing with quavering whispers. The two families were the only ones remaining.

"What gives you the right to assume that one of us killed Sam?" Dean snarled, his eyes flickering to the body on the dais. For just a moment, his hate-hardened eyes softened, turning into the liquidy pools of green that had stared at a dead 24-year-old after a rainy night in Cold Oak, South Dakota. But then he glanced back to Gabriel and his eyes flamed with fury. "_You_ were the ones who decided to let Sam stray onto our land."

"HE WAS FLYING THE WHITE FLAG OF FUCKING TRUCE!" Gabriel roared, his hands bursting into flickering tongues of holy fire. "YOU WERE THE ASSHOLES WHO KILLED HIM! YOUR OWN BROTHER, DEAN!"

King Dean frowned, stepping up so that he was toe to toe with Gabriel. "Listen to me, you son of a bitch," he hissed. "I don't know what's gotten into your head that makes you think that one of _my_ family killed Sam. He's my brother. He's family to all of us. So if you want to be a little bitch and make excuses to cover up Sam's inherent stupidity, then so be it. It's no more skin off my back."

Gabriel recoiled, his eyes wide with horror. "What happened to you, Dean?" he asked, his voice almost devoid of any trace of his old humor. "You used to actually have a heart."

Dean's eyes flickered briefly. "Yeah, well these things happen when you live with your brother for thousands of years." He brushed past the king of Hell and walked around the slab to the side where Sam's head rested. He bent down and reached out a hand to

"Hey, Uncle!" Madison called. When Dean turned, the brown-haired princess whipped her arm forward, sending a glinting steel object towards the royal family of New Haven. It landed with a solid _thunk_ in the wooden door just inches from Dean's head. It was the dagger that had killed Sam, embedded in the thick oak.

The king looked back in shock, his green eyes furious.

Madison smirked. "You might be wanting that back."

King Dean's eyes narrowed. He suddenly grabbed his children and, in a flurry of massive unseen wings, disappeared.

The royal family of Hell all turned their eyes to King Castiel, who met their eyes with sad blue orbs. "I'm sorry that it had to come to this, Gabriel," the angel murmured, approaching Sam's body. "This was never supposed to happen. Sam was...he was one of my greatest friends before-" he cut off as a wave of grief for his friend overcame him, but the royal family knew what the angel had been about to say.

_Before Dean began to make the seraphim his royal advisors._

Gabriel put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Little brother, I think it's time that you leave."

Castiel dipped his head in acknowledgement, his silver circlet glimmering in the light of the torches in the throne room. He turned and faced his nieces and nephew. "I'm sorry about the loss of your father. I can assure you that it was not me that did it."

Jessica's eyes were still cold. "Go," she ordered.

The king nodded and disappeared in a flurry of wingbeats.

Princess Jessica sighed and turned to her father's body, pressing a kiss to his forehead before she turned away with a sob and ran out of the hall. Damaris gave her father one more anguished look before she dashed after her twin.

Madison was next, grabbing her father's hand as she knelt next to his resting place. "I will avenge you, Dad," she whispered fiercely. "No matter what." She squeezed the limp hand before she stood up shakily and flew off in a flurry, presumably to the deepest depths of Hell to take out her fury on the souls in her jurisdiction.

Elijah Luke, the prodigal son of the Winchester family, came forward with a black scabbard. He unsheathed the angel blade that lay within, holding it up to the light. "This sword has seen a thousand battles. It has killed Timoriel and it has defended our honor a million times over. It is only fitting that the warrior be buried with his blade," he murmured. Eli put the sword back in its scabbard and placed it by Sam's side, arranging the king's right arm so that the sword's hilt was placed underneath the cold fingers, so that the king could spring into battle at any time. Eli smiled weakly, touching the golden circlet on his father's head affectionately. "Farewell, Father." And his wings carried him away on a breath of wind.

The only one left in the hall was Gabriel, who fell to his knees beside the slab, burying his face in Sam's hair. "Sammy," he whispered, "Why'd you have to leave me here?"

"You stole my heart," he sobbed, "and it'll be with you forever."


End file.
